"Now don't you give me your lip, young sir, or I'll knock your head off—do you hear? Any tramps about?"
"No," said Jerry, mendaciously, "all's safe." And, with a wonderful sense in a lad of his age, he said no more. Then he sat down to cards with the cook, and never made a solitary mention of what was going on in the front of the house. As he quite expected, Miss Plantagenet never sent for any of the servants. "They'll manage the job themselves," thought Jerry, playing cheerfully. When he retired to bed he had a wonderful lot to think about, and more than ever he determined to watch which way the wind blew so as to make as much money out of his knowledge as possible. Jerry was a marvellously precocious criminal and knew much more than was good for him. Miss Berengaria would have fainted—unaccustomed as she was to indulge in such weakness—had she known the kind of youth she sheltered under her roof.
But poor Miss Berengaria had her hands full. She left the front door open for the return of Alice, and heard it close with a bang. At once she started from her seat before the fire in the drawing-room to rebuke the girl for such carelessness, but her anger changed to astonishment when Alice appeared at the door streaming with wet and supporting a man. "Aunt!" cried Alice, dropping the man in a heap and eagerly closing the door. "Here's Bernard!"
"Bernard!" exclaimed Miss Plantagenet, staring.
"Yes, yes!" said Alice, passing over and pinching her aunt's arm. "See how pale he is and hungry. He escaped, and has come for us to save him. If the police——"
The man on the floor, who was in a half stupor, half rose. "The police—the police!" he said thickly, and his wild eyes glared. "No. I will confess everything. Alice, I am—I am—" He dropped again.
By this time Miss Plantagenet, accepting the hint of Alice's pinch, was beginning to grasp the situation. She scarcely relished having a murderer under her roof, but for the sake of Bernard she felt that she also must aid in the deception. But she could not conceive how Michael could have the audacity to pass himself off as Bernard to one who knew him so intimately as Alice. At the same time, she saw the wonderful likeness to Gore. He and Michael might have been twins, but Michael had not the mole which was his brother's distinguishing mark. Still, unless Michael knew all about Bernard's life, unless he was educated like him, unless he knew his ways and tricks and manners, it was impossible that he should hope to deceive Alice or even Miss Berengaria herself.
Also there was another thing to be considered. How came the man in this plight? He had received one thousand pounds from Sir Simon in the beginning of October, and therefore must have plenty of money. Yet here he was—thin, haggard, in squalid rags, and evidently a hunted fugitive. It was not a comedy got up to deceive them, for both women saw that the man really was suffering. He was now lying in a stupor, but, for all that, he might have sense enough to know what they said, so both were cautious after a glance exchanged between them.
"We must take Bernard up to the turret-room," said Miss Berengaria, promptly. "He'll be all right to-night and then we can send for Payne to-morrow. Help me with him, Alice."